


You will Remember what was Forgotten, Which is the Fact That the Ground is Rotten

by Absolutefandomtrash



Category: Doctor Sleep - Stephen King, IT - Stephen King, Pet Sematary - Stephen King
Genre: Abra's POV, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Crossover, Dan is possessed by whatever brings the animals back in Pet Sematary, Possession, Resurrection, Swearing, but it's chill, i guess, it's a jerk, not medically accurate examinations, post-Doctor Sleep, the thing doing the possessing is pretty chill actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-10-26 12:03:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolutefandomtrash/pseuds/Absolutefandomtrash
Summary: Her uncle blinks at her, a confused smile appearing on his face. "What are you-""Did Dan come back from the dead, or am I speaking to something else?"The smile falls away into a hard line. It's all the answer she needs.Dan dies and is buried. His family has just started to mourn when he shows up on the back porch, dazed and most definitely worse for wear. Abra and Azreel are quick to pick up on how he doesn't feel quitehuman.





	1. It was a Dark and Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> This was literally supposed to be a quick two-chapter fic, but then I got the idea to have The Turtle make a cameo and everything escalated from there. I have no idea how many chapters this will have.

The memorial service was okay.

She wished it wasn't Dan's, though.

_We're so sorry, Abra._

They hadn't finished packing up his stuff yet, but they brought Azreel home with them, where he latched himself onto Abra.

_Maybe he'll just be in a coma or something._

_Mom, he was dead before he hit the fucking ground!_

Abra laid down on the couch while her parents and Dr. John talked in the other room.

_Are you sure you want to work in the hospice, Abra? You could do literally anything else._

_I like what you're doing here. Plus, who'll take care of Az when you retire?_

_Apply to other schools as well. You never know._

But she _had_ known, at least on some level. She knew that he'd be leaving soon and that Helen Rivington House should have a Doctor Sleep living there. How long? Was her decision to take a gap year part of it? No, surely not. The possibility that it _might_ have had something to do with it still ate at her, though.

She hated her shining sometimes.

The voices of the adults faded into the background as a familiar tug pulled Abra out of the room. Usually when she astral projected or met Tony the pulling was up, up and over everything; this time, however, it pulled down. Down into the pitch blackness where something, _something_ was lurking just past where she could see and for the first time in a while she dreaded hearing anybody speak in that dark she dreaded what it would say and almost on cue a voice that wasn't Dan or Tony called out, "_Abraaaaaa_"__

_ __ _

_ __ _

Abra woke up with her head on her dad's lap and all three adults leaning over her. Gingerly sitting up, she allowed herself to be led to the couch she apparently fell off. 

"What happened, honey?" Abra shook her head and looked at Dr. John.

"Do you have your bag?" He blinked at her a couple of times. "Do you have your bag?"

"...Yes."

"Get it." He went out to his car; her parents stared at her.

"Honey, what happened?" her dad asked. She shook her head again.

"I don't remember. Something's going to happen, and Dr. John will need his bag. That's all I remember." Well, almost everything. She remembered the voice calling to her from just beyond her vision, but she wasn't going to say that. It would give them too much to worry about on top of everything going on.

Azreel came downstairs and started to pace on the carpet while the doctor came back in. _Something_ was happening, and none of them seemed to really know what was going on. And so they all waited in the living room while rain started to fall and the sky got darker and darker; Abra had actually started to fall asleep.

A loud banging on the back door woke her up, and they all stared at each other. The banging continued in short bursts, some louder than others, but never stopping long enough. Abra looked around at the adults before staring at the pacing cat. He hadn't stopped, and the something that pulled her into darkness told her that when he stopped pacing around she would know what to do, or all of them would know what to do, or the banging would stop, or another thing, but the pacing _meant_ something, and it had something to do with the banging.

"That's it." Everyone stared at Lucy Stone as she stood up and made her way to the door, and no one made a move to stop her.

Azreel kept pacing.

The sound of her mom struggling to fit the right key in the lock almost made Abra smile.

Azreel kept pacing.

The key went in, and the lock clicked.

Azreel stopped pacing.

Abra tried to not be discomforted by the quizzical stare the cat gave her, head cocked to one side like he was asking her a question. Of course, he could’ve been. The hospice cat was weird in that way.

The back door opened.

Everyone held their breath, though they wouldn’t admit it if asked.

An audible gasp from her mom.

A half-gasped, “Lucy!” from her dead uncle.


	2. Dead Man Walking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone tries to process the fact that Dan is alive, and Abra has suspicions

Lucy Stone walked in, followed by someone unmistakably Dan Torrance. Both were pale, both shook, but only one was covered in dirt, only one had significantly less color than normal in their skin, only one swayed on their feet. Abra quickly got off the couch and motioned for her uncle to sit there, which he did without saying anything. No one spoke as he collapsed on the couch. They just stared at him. Eventually he stared back.

“I know.” His voice had a slight rasp, as if his vocal chords were trying to remember how they worked. “I know.”

“How are you back?” Abra’s mom asked shakily. He just shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

_Liar_, Abra thought, not sure where that knowledge came from. But it was wrong. He _did_ know how he came back, and he _lied_. As if to get on the same page, Azzie batted at her leg and blinked, blinked with the same expression he wore when her mom opened the back door like he was asking, _You know something fishy is happening here, right?_

_ And yes, she did know that._

Dan took a deep breath, breaking her train of thought. “I just know I’m back. I was in the car, then I was outside of my grave. All I know.”

“What about in between?” her dad asked. His voice barely a whisper.

_You don’t want to know that. You don’t want to know that. You shouldn’t know that._

“I know it sounds cliché, but that’s not something I think you’re allowed to know.” Dan laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head. His eyes darted between the four of them

(like he’s searching for something)

(like he feels threatened)

as everyone but Abra groaned. “Look, I’m sorry. I just-“ he waved his hand, “feel it, you know?”

“Yes, but you’re giving us a tease,” Dr. John pointed out. “A tease of what comes next, and it could help us figure out what brought-“

“It didn’t.” Dan’s harsh tone made Abra jump and Azzie’s ears flatten. “It doesn’t give any help, and you shouldn’t push the subject. It’s not for the living to know.” He coldly stared

(with cold dead eyes)

the doctor down until he sank back in his chair; Dan then sighed and rubbed his lips with the back of his hand.

_It’s too slow, too deliberate for him. He just came back from the dead, it’s probably a coincidence. You’re just freaked out, Abra. It’s been a long day and you’re staring at your resurrected uncle. He’s fine._

“Sorry. This is just weird. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“Probably something we shouldn’t know.” Dr. John’s attempt at a joke hung in the air as everyone stared at Dan, who was staring at the ground.

(It’s weird for everyone, Dan. Don’t worry.)

His head jerked up at the zip-zip; he stared at her and she _saw_ the deadness in his eyes, the glassiness.

The coldness burning somewhere in their depths.

Unbidden, she thought of the voice calling to her and shuddered.

Something flickered behind the burning cold (recognition? gladness? smugness?) before he shook his head, murmuring, “This is fucking weird.” Then he looked back at her with a tight smile and said, “Sorry, Abra. Guess I have to get used to talking inside my head again.” Abra just nodded and returned the tight smile. She then excused herself to get some water (“Get some for all of us,” her mom called); from the kitchen she heard Dr. John open his bag and talk about wanting to see how Dan’s reflexes were and it shouldn’t take long.

Abra’s hands shook as she grabbed cups out of the cabinets. This was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. Dead people didn’t come back, and when they came back it was ghostie people and not coming back with a physical body like vampires or zombies. And if their voices grated in their throat and their hair had dirt in it well, it was because they were fucking _dead_ and their ghost wasn’t used to talking not because they somehow crawled out of their grave. Dr. John was telling Dan to look at his nose and tell him when his finger got out of sight. He was confused. Everyone was confused. Their confusion surrounded her, but it came with relief.

Dan wasn’t confused.

Dan was a black hole.

It was wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> The titles will either be clever references or they will be jokes there will be no in between.


End file.
